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Originally Published July 6th, 2013
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>Day Completely Different in Equestria
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>You are Anon.
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>Do the morning Triple-S.
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>Wake up.
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>Have a mini-existential crisis while you wonder why you keep shitting in your bed.
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>Burn the fourth bed this week.
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>Head downstairs to grab a delicious bowl of Pinkie Smacks.
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>It’s part of a balanced breakfast.
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>”It’s four in the afternoon. So wouldn’t it be lunch?”
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Well shit. You’re right!
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>You turn around to further thank the mystery voice and find Fluttershy on your couch.
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>Dammit.
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Why are you in my house?
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>”I’m here to guess your fetish and make you love me. I also came to give you another laxative because you keep waking up late.”
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>Stupid question. You already knew th-.
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>Laxatives?
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>You grab a nearby calculator as you sit down to eat.
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Alright Fluttershy. The both of us know you aren’t going to leave until you make your guess, and I have to figure out how much money you owe me before I go to work.
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>Fluttershy stares at you, slightly confused.
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>”What do you mean, Anon?”
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>You jam the first spoonful of cereal into your mouth as you start pushing buttons on the calculator and drawing graphs on the table.
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I mean that as long as you don’t interrupt me, you can guess my fetish.
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>You can feel her smile burn into you from across the room.
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>You can see her move behind you out of the corner of your eye.
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>You start to regret what you told her as you pray she doesn’t guess pegging.
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>You brace for the feeling of cold dildo pressing its way into your colon.
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>*snip snip*
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>Umm.
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>”Are haircuts your fetish, Anon?”
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>You sigh.
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No Fluttershy. They aren’t.
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>You can feel the scissors brush past your ears.
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>”Eeep! Did I get you ears?”
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>You turn around.
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No, no, you didn-WAIT A MINUTE!
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>Where Fluttershy should be clumsily wielding a pair of hair shears, is a tape recorder.
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>Fluttershy herself is rocking slowly by the sink.
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What the hell are you doing?
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>”I NEVER EVEN WANTED TO BE A RAPIST! MY MOTHER MADE ME DO IT!”
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>Wow.
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>She rears up and grabs your shoulders.
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>”DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT’S LIKE TO GUESS FETISHES AT BLOW-UPSTALLIONS FOR FIVE YEARS?”
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>WOW.
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Fluttershy…I’m-
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>”I always wanted to be a lumberjack.”
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…Beg your pardon?
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>”LEAPING FROM TREE TO TREE AS THEY FLOAT DOWN THE MIGHTY BRITISH COLTLUMBIA! THE LARCH! THE FIR! THE MIGHTY SCOOTS PINE!”
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>She walks out of the left door of your kitchen and reappears through the right door a second later, wearing suspenders and a flannel.
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>You can hear a chorus of manly voices singing somewhere in your house.
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Fluttershy what are you doing?
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>”THE SMELL OF FRESH CUT TIMBER! THE CRASH OF MIGHTY TREES! AND WITH MY ANON BY MY SIDE, “
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>You find yourself by Flutternutter’s side, wearing a white blouse and blue skirt.
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WHAT THE HELL!
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>“WE’D SING, SING, SING.”
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>Flutters wraps her wing around you as someone plays a piano you don’t remember buying.
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>”I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay. I sleep all night; I work all day.”
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>The camera jumps over to Spike and the rest of the Mane 6 and Applejack, who are all dressed up as Mounties.
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>”She’s a lumberjack and she’s o-”
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STOP!
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>You pry off Fluttershy’s wing and the music stops. The choir of Mounties scrambles out through the back door.
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>”So comedic musical numbers about sociopaths becoming lumberjacks aren’t your fetish, Anon?”
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Why on earth would you think that?
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>She stares at the floor and kicks at it with her hoof.
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>”I thought it was sexy?”
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>Your nose almost breaks upon your hands impact with your face.
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>You rest your hands upon her wings and grip tightly.
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Get out of my house.
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>You throw her out through the wall before you head off to work at your tobacco shop.
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>Today was a Flying Circus kinda day.
by Greggums
by Greggums
by Greggums
by Greggums
by Greggums